Desire for the Siren
by IndigoBlueButterfly
Summary: Celeste Serena LaRue wished for many things. She wished she wasn't so powerful that one of her powers could destroy the world as we know it. She wished her father wasn't a cheating bastard and her mother wasn't borderline anorexic. Most of all, she wished that the annoying, sexy as hell and infuriatingly handsome Cajun would leave her alone. But you don't always get what you want.
1. Chapter 1

**Cerebro's Files**

**Marked: CONFIDENTIAL**

**Name: **Celeste Serena LaRue

**Known Aliases: **Celestial, Princess, Siren, Queen of Illusions and (more rarely, one time basis only) Candy Queen

**X-Men Codename: **Siren

**Known Powers: **Telekinesis, Molecular Displacement, Telepathy and Illusionist

**Known Family: **Anna-Marie LaRue, mother. Jason Alexander Vermont, father (divorced). Samuel Andrew Vermont, stepbrother. Alicia Caroline Vermont, stepmother. Amelia Jacqueline Devine, aunt/godmother.

**Appearance: **White blonde hair, down to her waist and slightly curly. Large, almond shaped navy blue eyes. Lightly pale skin. Weighs 110 lb and is approximately 5' 5 ft.

**Power Capability: **Unknown


	2. Chapter 2

**Live and Learn**

Two faces loomed over Celeste LaRue and a twin voices spoke. "If you're gonna stop the words…"

"…you're gonna have to change yourself a bit."

Celeste at thirteen, peered at her reflection in the mirror. A pair of large, innocent dark blue eyes peered back, framed by a thick mane of pale blonde hair. Her skin was flawless and white, and tinged pink from being outside and the embarrassed flush of her cheeks. She lifted her head to look at the two girls behind her.

"Whaddya mean change mahself?" Her thick, Southern accent, made her words sound cute and sweet. The girls smiled and placed patronizing hands on her shoulders. They leaned down so that their matching faces were reflected in the mirror on either side of hers. Two pairs of dark green eyes smirked at her from the reflected surface.

"Well…" the twin on her left, Melanie, put a finger to her bottom lip and thought. "You need to stop staring at people so much. It freaks them out. And you have to talk more. You're not a freak, are you?"

Celeste barely had time to shake her head before the other twin started. "You need to stop dressing like a five year old," Melissa shook a finger at her in the mirror. "You're a teenager now!" She pinched the hem of the blue and white dress Celeste wore and eyed it scornfully. Cherry blossoms decorated the edges of the skirt and sleeves. "When did you buy this? When you were five?"

Celeste didn't dare tell them the dress was new, and that her mother had bought it for her for her thirteenth birthday just weeks ago. The dress had been pristine until that day, when she'd decided to wear it to school for fun. A few moments ago, she'd thought it was cute. But now, as she stared at herself in the mirror, she could only help thinking that she looked like a child.

Maybe Melissa and Melanie were right. They were her friends, they'd been the only ones to talk to her when she'd first arrived at her school last year when everyone else ignored her. They had stuck with her through every embarrassing time of her life, like the time someone dabbed red paint on the back of her skirt to make it look like she'd gotten her period, and the time someone switched the plaques on the doors of the changing rooms so she walked into the boy's room by accident…

They'd stuck with her. Maybe she should give their suggestions a try.

She nodded mutely. "Okay…what else do ah have ta do?"

The twins looked at each other and shared grins, before looking down at the little Southern girl. "Finally, you're gonna have to drop the accent."

Her eyes widened. "Mah…mah accent?" her Souhtern drawl had never sounded so pronounced before. "Mais, wha's wrong wit' it?"

Melanie wrinkled her nose like she'd smelled something bad and bit her lip. Melissa wasn't so nice. She flicked a strand of Celeste's hair and sucked in her lips. "It makes you sound so Redneck Celeste, and it sounds weird. People don't like it." Celeste visibly wilted under her words and she covered over her smirk with a sympathetic smile and a coo. "But, the little French thing you do is cute!"

She even made that sound like an insult.

Celeste knew that her Southern accent was a result of her parenting. Or, at least, one half of it. The French was a result of her mother, who was a Cajun and was raised in Lafayette with her family. Because Celeste spent most of her time with her mother's family, she'd more or less absorbed the Cajun and Southern way of life, along with the accent.

Most of the time, Celeste found herself lapsing into an accent as thick as maple syrup on buttery pancakes in summer. She loved her accent, because it reminded her of one part of her family that would never abandon her, no matter how strange she was.

And Celeste considered herself very strange.

But maybe she could change that. Melanie had told her she had the potential to be one of the prettiest, and most popular girls in their school. Maybe if she tried what they were telling her…

Celeste shook out her mane of her and looked down at it contemplatively. "It won't hurt…" the Melanie in the mirror whispered on one side of her.

"And it'll be fun," her twin added, smiling sweetly. Their matching eyes glimmered into her navy orbs like snake eyes. "Come on…what harm could it do?"

"And Derrick will like it…"

That was like the cincher. Almost everyone in her year knew that she had the biggest crush on Derrick Sanders, the finest and most good-looking guy in her year. He was tall with dark hair and green eyes and the cutest smile ever. She'd had a crush on him since the seventh grade, but he hadn't noticed her at all.

Melissa watched her struggle with her decision and pressed further. "This makeover could be just what you need to make him notice you…"

Celeste swallowed and nodded tentatively. "Ah guess…I mean, I guess. It could be fun…"

The two girls smirked meanly at each other over her head, and spun her around to begin their work. Melanie grabbed a strand of Celeste's thick hair and eyed it critically, like she was serious. "Melanie, you got mom's make-up?"

"Yeah, here," Melissa pulled the black net bag open and emptied out a plethora of make-up. Eyeliner pencils, mascara, lip-gloss and lipsticks fell out and scattered all over the bed. "Ooh, we're gonna make you so pretty!"

"Are ya - you, sure?" Celeste squeezed her eyes shut as Melissa leaned closer with an eyeliner pencil in one hand. Melissa waved her hand airily.

"Of course! And then, when we're done, we can take you out to the mall so you can show off your new look!" The tip of the eyeliner touched the top of her eyes. "It'll be alright…"

The next couple of minutes, Celeste felt a flurry of materials brush against her cheeks, her nose, her eyes and her lips. Perfume was spritzed all over her until she smelled like the inside of a flower shop in summer. Her eyelashes and eyebrows were plucked within an inch of their lives. And then, finally, something was smeared across the tops of her eyes.

"All done!" Celeste's eyes flew open and she tried to turn to look into the mirror, but the twin's hands on her shoulders stopped her. "No, you can't look yet!"

Celeste looked up with a confused frown. "Whah, I mean, why not?" Keeping her accent in check was harder than she'd thought. You're done, aren't you?"

The two of them rolled their eyes like her question was the dumbest they'd ever heard. "Uh, because we have to show you off first!"

"Yeah," Melissa looked like she was struggling not to laugh at something. "You're like, or work of art! Come on, let's go shopping!"

"Uh…okay," she got to her feet. Melanie turned around and returned with a camera.

"wait, wait, I want a picture!" She giggled. The camera flashed and she examined the picture. "Perfect! You look amazing!"

She felt the first sparks of hope and happiness that maybe everything was alright. She hadn't felt like that since last Christmas when she'd spent it with her mother's family in their country house. She had in a while. "Do I?"

"Yeah!" Melanie grabbed her arm with a wide grin. "Come on, let's go out!" The three girls giggled quietly as they snuck downstairs. Celeste forced herself to sound upbeat and excited, and focused on trying to keep her accent from showing. But she was still nervous. She wondered why they were sneaking, and whether or not they were even allowed to use their mother's make-up anyway.

Melanie pushed open the backdoor and they slipped out. Celeste tried to lag behind, she was still woprried and nervous, but they dragged her between them and gripped her arms. "Come on, stand straight, show off!"

"You look great!"

"So great!"

"Derrick is going to fall head over heels when he sees you!"

They said this so many times that she started to believe them. She stood straight and tossed her head back, shaking out her hair and pasting a smile on her face. As they walked, she could see people staring at them. The eyes made her nervous, but the twins reassured her that it was just because she looked so pretty. And she believed them.

She believed them up until they reached the large, glass doors of the mall with the words _Golden City Mall_ emblazoned above in gold writing. She believed them completely, until she saw herself mirrored in the transparent glass doors. And she screamed.

They'd painted her eyes in a myriad of violently bright colours. Th eyeliner was ringed so thick that she looked like a raccoon. Her lips were painted with thick, bright red lipstick and her face was coated in brown powder. She looked like a clown. No, she looked _worse_ than a clown. She looked horrible!

"Oh my god!" She whirled around and realized that both Melanie and Melissa were cackling behind her like they couldn't believe that she had fallen for it. And behind them, were several of her classmates, including Derrick. In fact, he was laughing most of all.

He slapped a high-five with the twins and smirked at her. "I didn't think you could top the last one, but I was wrong!" He laughed harder and even doubled over with mirth. "I guess I do owe you guys ten dollars!"

"No," they shook their heads and pointed at her like she was a circus freak-show. "We get more for our ingenious way of going about it!"

"Can you believe she thought you liked her?" Melissa giggled loudly. "Like hell he would!"

"You're so stupid!" Melanie guffawed. "Like, you thought he would actually like you/ admit it, you're just a freak!"

The word reverberated and repeated itself as she whirled around to stare at the laughing faces of her classmates. They were pointing, grinning, laughing at her pain. Hot tears stung at her eyes. She whirled around to stare at her 'former' friends. If they'd ever been her friends at all.

"Whah would y' guys do dis?" She yelled hysterically, fdropping the fake accent that she'd been trying to perfect on their way. The tears came freely now, smearing the face paint and probably making her look more like a clown than ever. "Ah t'ought y' were mah friends!"

That only made them laugh harder. "'Ah t'ought y' were mah friends!" Melissa repeated in a high pitched imitation of her voice. "Please, get over yourself! You're a freak, and you aren't like any of us! Just get back to your rich Redneck home and get out!"

She stumbled backwards, shocked at the level of poison in those words. She wanted to yell that it wasn't her fault she was rich, neither was it her fault that her mother's family was Southern. But then someone shoved her, and she staggered and fell to the ground. The gravel scraped at her knees and the palms of her hands and a pained cry escaped her lips.

"Aw," someone teased cruelly. "Is da liddle baby gonna cry?"

When she lifted her hands, she realized that her palms were bleeding. Specks of granite and asphalt had entered the wounds. Her hands stung, matching the pain in her eyes. She couldn't help it, tears began to stream down her cheeks.

"Oh my gosh she is!" Melanie cackled gleefully. "Oh someone get me a camera! This is going on Facebook!"

_Dey're still laughin'!_ That fact made its way into her scared, horrified, betrayed mind. And there it grew. _Dey're laughin' at me. All o' dem…takin' pleaso' at mah sadness…_

_Ah can teach them a lesson. Ah can!_

_Then do it._

Suddenly, she felt flooded with power. Power she'd always known she'd had, because she'd been feeling it for years. The tingling feeling that she'd been feeling morphed into a warmth that flowed all over her body like a cascade of pure water. And when she opened her eyes, she realized that she was hovering over the ground, over her classmates. And when she looked into a window nearby, she realized that her eyes were glowing blue white. Her pupils were gone!

And she realized…she wasn't scared! If anything, she was pissed off as hell. Even with her badly made-up face and tear-stained cheeks, she realized that she looked incredibly intimidating. Like an Amazonian Queen ready for battle.

"Oh my god, she's a mutant!" 

"She's a monster!"

"Run!"

She ignored the screamed of people around and the screech of car tires against asphalt. She just stared at her reflection, taking in how different she looked. Enjoying the thrill of the power running through her veins. She was flying! She was powerful! No one could hurt her now!

The scream of police sirens jolted her out of her thoughts. She whipped around and saw several police cars heading in her direction. Like she'd been doing it her whole life, Celeste took to the sky like a rocket, with her hair streaming out behind her and her lips curving into a wide grin. The feeling of the wind rushing past her face, as she darted through the sky like a bird…it was amazing.

In all her years,, she'd never felt so free.

She soared over the houses, arms outstretched like wings. As she flew, she wiped off the make up with her hands. When it didn't come off, she dropped down and let her hand slice through the water of a lake and splashed it on her face. Then she twisted and flew up again.

It was like she'd been flying her whole life, she mused, as she performed an aerial back-flip and dropped down, before pulling up again. And then she lowered herself back to hover over the top of the water. When she did that, she felt like she was a part of the water. She hadn't felt it before because she'd been pulled up too fast. But now, she felt like she could feel every ebb and flow of the water as it flowed under the surface, through the rocks, and emptied into the sea.

Celeste placed her hand above the water, and felt it ripple. And then she lifted her hand. The water followed like a snake, obeying every command, every wiggle of her fingers and curl of her hand. Amazed, she held both of her hands over the water and made a sharp motion upwards. The water exploded like diamond fireworks around her.

The droplets coalesced back into their snake form, and followed her like a rope as she flew up again. She was laughing, laughing with joy as she pulled the lake behind her and formed a ring of water in the air. She wrote her name with the liquid, her nickname, she made shapes and followed the birds as they glided over the trees.

It was late evening when she finally landed outside the door of her house. The grin hadn't left her face as she gazed up and pure white mansion with the golden lights pouring out though the windows. She pulled open the door and stepped inside…

Only to come face to face with her godmother(her tante), her mother, her father…and a strange woman dressed in only a nightgown.

She could tell they had been yelling seconds before she'd entered the house. Her mother's eyes were red and she looked like she'd been crying. Her tante looked incredibly angry, like she was ready to take a chainsaw to someone. Her father's face was red, and it only got redder when his eyes landed on her.

And the woman…she looked embarrassed beyond belief. Her dark hair was ruffled, and underneath the short, white nightgown she was naked.

Celeste suddenly felt sick. She stumbled backwards. "Dad…?"

His gaze turned anguished and he reached for her. "Honey, I didn't mean for you to see this…"

"Get awah from her!" Tante Amelia yanked her backwards against her and wrapped her arms around her body, as though she was protecting her from her father. "Get awah ya damned, dirteh, no-good excuse fo' a man!"

"She's my child, I can talk to my child if I want!" He yelled back. "And if you restrict me, I can get you in court faster than you can say Yankee Doodle!"

The nameless woman looked terrified, like she'd rather be anywhere else. But lucky for her, no one else was really looking at her, except her tante and that was to shoot her venomous looks.

Her father turned back to her and placed a hand on her shoulder. Celeste didn't move. She felt like she was frozen. Like she was watching herself, and she couldn't make herself move anymore than to stare at her father out of blank eyes. "I'm sorry you had to find out like this honey, but you should know that you're mother and I aren't in love anymore…"

Her mother let out a pained, choking gasp and covered her mouth. Her eyes looked wild with grief and pain. The sound tore at Celeste's heart and she ripped herself away from her father and ran to her mother. She wrapped her arms around her mother's thin waist as though to comfort and take comfort.

"Mama!"

"Honeh!" Anna-Marie Vermont, soon to be Anna-Marie LaRue, hugged her child tightly. "Ah won' let I'm take y' honeh. Ah promise!"

Jason Alexander Vermont's eyes hardened. He was a man used to getting whatever he wanted, and being an experienced lawyer, he was usually very good at that. "Not if the law says you aren't fit to! Anna, you don't have a penny to your name! Celeste is better off with me!"

The anger Celeste had been feeling returned back with a vengeance. How dare he say that to her mother? How dare he do this and then try to take everything from the woman who had taken care of her, loved her, no matter what happened?

Anger, hurt, and fear – yes, the fear of being ripped away from someone she loved – raged through her. And she didn't realize her eyes were beginning to glow until the nameless woman gasped and started screaming.

Her father staggered backwards. "She's…she's a mutant!" His words, though shocked, were said in the same way you might say "It's a rat!"

Her mother and tante's arms wrapped around her protectively. "Don' talk lahke dat to de bebe!" Her tante snapped. "Y'ain' got de raghte y' bastard!"

The angry glow faded some and her father quickly regained his confidence and smoothed his hands over the front of his shirt. The look he gave his daughter now, was one of disgust, like he'd just discovered she was trash. Which, to him, she probably was now.

Strangely, his rejection of her didn't hurt as much as she thought it would. She wrapped her arms tighter around her family. "Well," her father began. "Since we now know the…_nature_ of the child…"

She noticed that this time, he called her 'the child' and not 'my daughter' or Celeste.

"…I suppose you can keep her."

Tante Amelia snarled and hugged her tighter. "_T'ank_ y', you sad excuse for a person! Ah should kill y' fo' dis! Ah swear, y're useless! Y' and dat _whore_ behande y'!"

The nameless woman took a few steps backwards and then actually spoke. "Jason," she whined. "The weird lady's getting' on my nerves!"

He eyed the three of them like they were trash now, and Celeste wanted to strangle him for staring at her mother that way. He'd hurt her enough. "They're getting on mine as well. Amelia, Anna…_Celeste_."

She got the impression that he hated her more than her mother.

"You all know the way to the front door?"

Outside the house that she'd grown up, with its pale white walls beginning to glow in the darkening sky under the pale white light of the moon, Celeste Serena LaRue, stood between the two people she loved the most. She could feel the earth underneath her feet, every ridge and bump, and knew it would respond to her.

And then she stretched out her hand. The ground began to shake and she watched as a crack spread across the ground in front of them. A fissure appeared, splitting the earth and swallowing her father's brand new cherry red Ferrari. She heard screams, yells, and a smile spread across her face as she turned and held her mother's hand and her tante's.

And then the three of them disappeared into her tante's car. Celeste strapped in and arranged her hair neatly. "Where ahre we goin' now mere?" She asked curiously.

Her mother wrapped an arm around her shoulders and hugged her closer. She smelled like baby powder, soap and roses. "Ah don' care bebe, as long as we're togethah…ah don' care where we go…"

Celeste closed her as she felt the gentle rumble of the car. The smell of the inside of her tante's car, lemons and pine air freshener, and her mother's scent lulled her into a deep sleep. And she smiled happily.

Because at least now, she'd be safe. Safe and loved.


	3. Chapter 3

**Okay, I am sorry but this is not an update *ducks pitchforks, knives and rotten fruit^ SORRY! But some idiot stole my flashdrive so I have to write everything from scratch! Plus I have tests, IGCSEs, entrance exams, Mock and a whole shitload of exams to write and I am seriously stressed right now! I will update soon, maybe in a week.**

**Oh, and check out my blog! It's new so I haven't really been able to do much but I'm working on it! It's .com!**

**Love you! Butterfly-chan**


	4. Chapter 4

**Queen of the Moon**

_My dream is to fly to the moon and never come back._

_Because the moon is pale and lonely, desolate and cold…I think we'd match, don't you?_

-C. S. L

_Boy, if y' touch meh one mo' tahme…ah will shove dis cake down your throat complete wit' da tray!_

Celeste was at her job. A job that she hated, detested, abhorred, and would gladly quit did she and her mother not need the money to do things like pay bills and tuition at her school. A school she also, coincidentally, hated.

Truly she hated a lot of stuff about her life. But she did love a lot. There were so many things she'd never give up in her life. Her mother, her tante, her chocolate croissants…many things. Life's tiny pleasures, she was going to enjoy the things she could.

Celeste had found a job at a restaurant known as _The Glowing Sun_. And while that did sound like a really fancy name, she'd only had to spent fifteen minutes inside to realize that underneath the gold, fancy exterior and decor, the people were just as seedy and depraved as any local bar or tavern.

She didn't have to mention that the place ran mostly on sex appeal, and that was the reason why her restaurant uniform consisted of a short maid-like dress and black sky high pumps.

Celeste, being Celeste, had marched back in wearing leggings and boots. The management had thrown a fit, but she'd been adamant, even a little threatening. And she might have beaten up a couple of people that had tried to make her see 'how good it could be'. But only in the darkness of an alley where no one would find the bodies. Cue evil laughter…

Because she was proud of who she was now. As she thought back to her younger, more innocent age, when she'd been a doormat, so eager to please everyone…she hated that girl. Well, maybe not hated…but she was embarrassed of herself. No wonder people had taken advantage of her so much. She'd been such an easy target.

But not anymore. Now she was no one's target. She was a strong, independent mutant with blonde hair, dark blue eyes and a fiery attitude that could stand up to anyone who tried to take advantage of her. She'd promised herself a long time ago that no one, _no one_, would _ever_ take advantage of her again.

So far, she'd done a good job of keeping to that promise.

Anyway, the only reason she'd been allowed to stay, despite her refusal to wear the uniform the 'proper' way, was because the patrons found her Southern drawl with bits of French tossed in, and charming Southern belle ways alluring. Men thought she was cute, a darling little thing that would be easy to flirt with. And that was what she pretended to be…but she usually poured it on thick when she needed to charm the pants off some of the patrons for tips.

Although the girls in her school usually made fun of her for having a Southern accent, she'd refused to try to hide it. Just because those idiots assumed that just because she was southern, she was automatically a redneck and had committed all sorts of incest, that didn't mean she had to listen to them. She was fiercely proud of her Southern/Cajun accent and wouldn't give it up for any of those people.

It wasn't like they weren't important to her anyway.

Anyway, that day she was taking down a man's order and dodging all his lewd advances with practiced flair and ease. "Aw, come on cupcake…" he reached for her. She ducked out of the way smartly and tapped the page with her pencil, her face betraying nothing of her irritation and disgust.

"Oui, so da monsieur will 'ave da Mega Meaty Burger an' a Coke?" She put on her best smile, even though deep down inside she wanted to stab him through the head with her pencil. "Someone'll beh raghte ova' wit' y' ordah, merci monsieur."

She escaped as quickly as possible and took a deep breath, leaning against the counter. Working at this place really stressed her out both emotionally and physically, and the pay wasn't worth it. But it was all she had. She slapped the order down on the table and yelled, "TABLE SEVEN!"

"Comin' right up!"

Celeste grinned at the girl that made her way through the swinging kitchen doors, a pretty elfish thing with dark skin that went by Hibiscus because of her dark purple hair that (at least that was what she claimed) was completely natural. Her real name was Samantha Addams, and she was one of Celeste's best friends.

She leaned across the tabletop and frowned sympathetically. "Tired?"

"Tired? Hon', ah'm Exhausted," Celeste rolled her eyes and flopped face down on the surface of the table. "Soooo exhausted! F' such a terrible place, whah are dere so maneh customers around anyway?"

Hibiscus thought the answer was pretty obvious, but she knew that Celeste a.k.a. Siren, also knew why, and that the question was completely rhetorical. So all she did was make a sympathetic sound in her throat and pat her friend's hand patronizingly.

Celeste swatted her hand with a grin, and then she shrugged and heaved a sigh, which blew a few strands of her hair out of her eyes. "Je deteste dis place (I hate this place). C'est horrible (It's horrible)."

Hibiscus didn't always understand the French phrases Siren tossed into her words, but she knew enough French, and enough about her friend, to make a good guess. She shrugged and smirked. Hibiscus was confined to the kitchen, since she was one of the cooks, and so she didn't get harassed much except by a few lustful male workers. But no one dared to anything to her, because even if someone had wanted to try, they would have to pass through Celeste. The blonde had more or less appointed herself guardian over the waiflike girl. And she had a really great right hook. Plus she could tie them up with the metal utensils.

The door of the restaurant opened and shut again and Celeste sighed. She let her head hang for a moment, before straightening. "Ah guess 's back t' de ol' grahndin' stone." She flipped her hair over her shoulder as she walked over to where the man was being seated by one of the workers. She plastered on a large, bright, yet incredibly fake smile on her face and lifted her pencil to her notepad. "Bonjour monsieur," she poured on the Southern charm. C'n ah getcha anytin' hon'?"

Then she got a good look at the man, and almost all the air whooshed out of her lungs. He was, in a word, _gorgeous. _And even that didn't seem right. He was, frankly speaking, the sexiest thing on legs she'd ever seen. Dark, auburn brown hair tied back in a low ponytail at the base of his neck. Dark strands of the silky hair fell over his face and cheeks. He had a goatee, something she'd always assumed was really unappealing until she'd seen it on him.

His face was angular and strong, well formed and undeniably handsome. A dark smirk played about his sinfully soft-looking lips, and his eyes (those were his most stunning features) were an alluring red on black and they were tracing her body up and down. He was radiating that sultry, smexy, bad-boy vibe. The one that told you 'he's dangerous, but oh my god look at those ABS!' And she was looking, because how could she not?

_Good Lawd, _she resisted the urge to ogle him so much, fan herself, or make the sign of the cross over her chest._ Fo'give me, fo' ah have sinned…_

A deep, sensuous voice cut through her thoughts. "Didn' y' mere evah teach y' dat 's rude tah stare at people, Cherie?" She snapped her mouth shut. His voice was a low, deep Southern drawl, but with drops of French thrown in to add to the spicy flavour. Her body gave a slow shiver in response to his voice.

She quickly slapped herself mentally and gave herself a little shake. _Stop droolin' y' idiot! _She scolded herself firmly.

_Mais, y' gotta admit…damn his accent is sexy! _Alright, she'd give him that, and she allowed herself a quick, internal swoon.

The man smirked, clearly knowing his effect on the opposite sex and enjoying it. She stopped her swooning and forced her lips to not pull back into a snarl at the arrogant tilt of his head. "Unless," he drawled. "Y' wanna see mo' chere, and den ah bet we c'n make some kahnde o' arrangement…"

Aaaaaand there went everything about him. Her eyes narrowed at his arrogance. In her mind, Celeste wondered why it was so difficult to find a good-looking guy, with great washboard abs and sultry bedroom eyes that also wasn't an arrogant idiot that only cared about getting into her pants. Was it really so hard or were the looks given in exchange for the brains and personality?

_Mebbe ah should 'ave been bohn flat, _Celeste thought to herself with a soft, almost inaudible sigh of annoyance_. At least den dere'd beh not'ing to sahlivate ovah_.

Instead, she was sporting a pair of…huh, she wasn't really sure. She couldn't remember the last time she'd gone shopping for a bra that was actually new and not a hand me down from her cousins and aunts.

Anyway, she wasn't quite sure, but the one she was wearing said 34D. However, it was getting a bit tight, and so she figured she needed to go to one of the second hand shops or ask her tante Amelia for a new bra soon.

So, breasts, she had those, and she knew she had a nice rear from the number of men that had tried to pinch it only to have their fingers broken in the next second.

She cocked her hip to the side, and sighed another almost inaudible sigh, and looked down at him. Damn him, why was he still staring at her like that? Honestly, it felt like he was raping her with his eyes. It was making her uncomfortable.

_NO, take y' incroyablement sexy bedroom eyes elsewhere y' batard! Ah do not need dis!_ She cleared her throat and poised her pencil. "Wha' would yah lahke monsieur?"

His eyes raked over her once more, and then he smirked. "Y' Cherie."

Her pen froze. "Je suis desolee, mais quoi?" (I'm sorry, but what?)

His grin grew. "Y' heard meh Cherie, ah wan' y'."

She stared at him blankly for a few seconds, and then she turned and searched the interior of the restaurant. "FACADE!"

A girl that was almost as busty as she was and with hair that was so vibrant looking and red that it looked dyed (even though it wasn't), looked over at them curiously from where she was taking another customer's order.

Celeste jabbed a thumb in the man's direction and waved her over. Then she turned back to the sexy customer whose name she didn't know. He had a slightly confused, mostly amused smile on his face which he directed at her. "She'll be tres heureux (very happy) to take your order. Mais listen here, monsieur," she leaned down so that her face was level with his. "Dis is not a pimp club. Y' treat her badleh, and ah will hunt y' sorreh ass down, oui?"

Her warning was because Façade, also known as Emily Sanders, was also one of her closest friends. The nickname was because Façade had a thing for pretending. She had talent with face-paint and clothes. In a few moments, with some make-up and a dress, she could make herself look completely different. However, the girl could get a bit out of hand when it came to good looking guys…

His eyes fixed on hers, and he grinned wider. "Oui, but 't ain' her ah wan'ed Cherie, 's y'. An' y'know y' wan' meh too."

She blinked at him. "Delusional, clairement illusion," she shook her head like she was delivering a sad diagnosis of a mental patient. He laughed, and the sound sent tingles all over her skin. Celeste felt her cheeks heat up, one of the things she hated about having such pale skin. Although she was lucky in some ways, it didn't tan no, but it didn't get sunburn either. No matter how long she stayed out, her skin remained just as pale, like the moon.

Emily arrived, after taking a moment to primp herself. "Hi, I'm Emily but you may call me Façade, may I take your order?"

He leaned back in his chair, affording the two girls a look at the impressive eight pack abs showing through the black muscle shirt not hidden in any way by the long brown trench coat he wore. Emily unashamedly ogled them and giggled coquettishly. Celeste rolled her eyes, even though her face heated up slightly.

"Well…" he drawled out with a sigh. "Ah did ask f' d' petit chere behande y', mais she was bein' stubborn…"

Emily arched an eyebrow at her, like: _you were being stubborn? Really? LOOK AT HIM!_

Celeste ignored her and shrugged. "C'est la vie monsieur (That's life mister), ah do mah best not tah fall at men's feet. Good luck Façade," she winked and moved off to a different table. She didn't see the way his eyes followed the subtle sway of her hips as she walked away.

Instead, she thought about how it was possible that she might never find love. Real love, nor _eros_, physical love that only cared about a person's body. She'd always hoped for _true _love. Someone who'd love her unconditionally, no matter what and would never intentionally break her heart. She knew her mother knew what that felt like firsthand, after all her father had divorced her mother because he hated mutants. And Celeste was a mutant.

In the three years she'd had her powers, she'd discovered several things about them. As far as she knew was that she could control anything non-living. She couldn't control things that had once been alive, or were alive. But anything else, she could.

At first, she had decided it had to be some form of Telekinesis, but then she realized she could control the shape of the object. She could render a cube of metal into liquid, without any form of heat, and control it. Deductive reasoning told her she had to be influencing the object's molecules and ions.

Plus, she could cast illusions that looked, felt and smelled incredibly real.

She wasn't sure if she was strong, seeing as she'd never met another mutant before, but she figured she was pretty strong. Anyone who could control more or less every kind of material had to be strong, right? She didn't use her Illusions often because they weren't all that useful, but they had come in handy once or twice. And she _never_ used her Telepathy. The last time she did it was a disaster.

That evening, Celeste punched out hours after Hibiscus and Façade had packed up and left. She was the last to leave because Thursdays were her days to tidy up the menus and last minute things. It was a boring and tedious thing, but she treasured it because it was the only part of her job where she actually had a moment of peace without anyone there to bother her.

After Celeste finished stacking up everything, she stepped out of the store dressed in her ordinary street clothes. It was chilly outside, so she was wearing a fitted white shirt underneath a black jacket and black jeans with her low heeled boots. She loved those boots. They were excellent for kicking, you could ask a lot of the guys in her school.

She slung her bag over her shoulder and locked the door behind her. And as she did that, a familiar voice cut through the darkness, startling her. "Ah t'ought y'd nevah show, ma Cherie."

She froze. What was he doing here so late at night? Hold on, had he been there _all day_? _Goddamnit, 's he anothah stalker? Do ah have to go through wit' dis all ovah again? How maneh tahmes do ah have t' kick deir asses befo' dey stop?_

_And he had such a nice ass…_

_MON DIEU, WHERE THE FLIP DID THAT COME FROM?_

_Your subconscious? And I bet he does. Yummy guys usually have fine asses. _

_Ah need to see a therapist…_

He stepped out of the shadows, smiling enigmatically and flashing those eyes at her. One hand was in the pocket of his trench coat. For some reason, in his other hand he held a deck of playing cards which he shuffled rapidly with his fingers.

In the light of the moon, she could see that he was about 6'1, clearly towering over her 5'4 frame. He was obviously older than she was as well, and standing up she could see that he was built pretty much _everywhere. _He had biceps and triceps like mountain ranges, and his body looked like what would happen if God mixed the body of an Olympic athlete, a professional swimmer and a male supermodel together.

Answer: Perfection in its most beautiful form.

Despite this, she was still able to prevent her jaw from falling. "Who are y'?" She snapped, and her hands went to her hips in an intimidating pose. "Y'know what, non, ah don' wanna know. Jus' lemme go home, tu comprend?"

"Ah'm afraid ah I can't do that chere," he flipped the cards and smirked at her. "Mais, ah'd lahke t' get de name of de belle fille in front o' me…" to her surprise, he suddenly leaned forward and grabbed her hand and brought it to his lips. "Mon nom, c'est Remy LeBeau. An' y' Cherie…?"

Was he for real? She slowly pulled her hand out of his grip. "Celeste LaRue," she replied slowly. "Anyway, it was nahce meetin' y' Remy, mais ah have ta go now…so…" she started shifting to the side.

Remy took a step forward and fingered the set of cards before selecting one between his pointer and middle fingers. "Leavin' so soon Cherie?" He smirked. "Befo' de fun's even started?" To her shock, the card began to glow with pinkish red energy. "Ah do have a job t' do, being a professional t'ief an' all. An' guess who's next on mah list of things t' steal?"

Her heart stopped for a few seconds, and then restarted at almost twice its original pace. He was a mutant? Like her? One one hand, she was happy because it mean that she wasn't utterly alone in the world. On the other hand, that glow was starting to freak her out. Plus he had mentioned that he was a thief and he wanted to kidnap her…

Celeste's body tensed and she fixed him with a frosty glare. "Well mon stupide ami," she smirked. "Y' gonna have tah catch me first." And with that, she took off running into the darkness.

Remy chuckled darkly and flicked out five cards, charging them with energy. "Of course ma petite chaton," he grinned. "I' wouldn' be fun any othah way." And then he chased after her.

Celeste knew the back alleys like the back of her hand, having grown up there for most of her life. But apparently, this guy, what did he call himself? Remy? Yeah. He knew them too, as was apparent by the explosion behind her. A card whirled past her face and exploded against one of the walls. The bricks and mortar began to fall and would have crushed her, had Celeste not reached out a hand and stopped the onslaught midair, and then she threw them at him.

Remy dodged most of the rocks. The ones that he didn't dodge, he blew up with his cards. "Whoo, well done Cherie," he drawled, straightening and standing casually amidst the debris. "So, y'a Telepath? No wonder Magneto wan's y' so badleh. Ah kno' ah do…"

Celeste scowled. He was shuffling his deck of cards like nothing was wrong. She wondered where he got the deck, and whether he used them all the time whenever he fought. And when he ran out, did he buy more? That just seemed like a waste.

What really annoyed her, was that he barely seemed winded. He wasn't even sweating! He just kicked some of the debris out of his way and grinned at her. "Dis 's fun, ain' it Cherie?"

Celeste decided to cut her losses and fold. Even if she was strong enough to fight this mutant, she didn't want to. He'd obviously had his powers for a much longer period of time. And besides, the important thing was making sure he couldn't tail her home and endanger her mere and tante. And so, instead of answering, she took off.

"Y' c'n run ma jolie chaton, but'cha can' hahde from Remy."

Good Lord, was he _cooing_? He was acting like they were in the middle of some activity between lovers instead of a kidnapping scenario! This was not natural! _He_ wasn't natural! _T' beh honest, _she thought to herself as she darted past a stack of black rubber tires beside an overflowing trashcan. _Neithah am ah. _

Remy watched her skid to a stop when the alley became a dead end. She whirled around to face him. In the light of the pale moon, she looked ethereal and beautiful. Maybe after this, he could get to know her a bit more…

"Get away from meh y' crazy Cajun!" She snarled.

"Je suis desolee belle, mais dat's impossible," a card appeared in one hand and he tossed it at her. Celeste back-flipped out of the way and landed in an almost 180 degree split to avoid another card. His brows arched in approval. "Impressive mah Cherie. Flexibility is one of da tings ah lahke in a femme (woman)."

Really, he was trying to kidnap her and he was _still_ flirting? She could tell he was a playboy, one who knew how to use his looks to get things done. His looks and his exploding cards. Celeste scrambled over the fallen pieces of the wall and climbed up one of the metal ladders, until a card flew past her and lodged into the support.

Suddenly, it exploded beneath her feet, and she fell with a scream.

Remy caught her falling body easily with a smirk. "Ah knew y' couldn' resist mah charm f' too long Cherie," he purred, feeling her supple curves against him. Her ample chest rose with every breath and her eyes were wide and, stunned and somewhat angry and defiant as they stared up at him. Gambit grinned. Hmm, he would definitely have to get to know her better after he delievered her to Magneto.

And then…she flickered. Remy frowned. She flickered again. And then she giggled and winked.

"Vous berner, mon stupid Cajun (fooled you, my stupid Cajun)," she smiled sweetly up at him. "Ah'm an illusion honeh. Maintenant vous me voyez… (now you see me…)" the Celeste in his hands flickered out of existence.

Remy stared in shock at his now empty hands. He'd spent the whole time chasing after an illusion of her?

Any other man might have been pissed off, angry, and most definitely frustrated. But Remy just laughed. _Oh ma petite Cherie, y' shouldn' have,_ he smirked to himself, staring at the moon between the buildings. _Because y' don' know how much Remy loves a challenge…_


End file.
